Behind Closed Doors
by rachael-cullen222
Summary: Bella is framed for the murder of Renee, and sent to a mental asylum that still uses the shock treatment. "He put me here, and here I would stay." One-shot bella AH/AU. -xoxo


Behind closed doors

"NO, I didn't do it, I swear, no, please stop, it was him, I DIDNT DO IT!" I shrieked as the well built orderly shoved me into my chamber.

I fell to the cold padded cell floor, and pulled my knees up to my chest. I just sat there sobbing, there was nothing else to do, there were no windows, there was no colour there was nothing. Just the overpowering sensation of hopelessness all around me. It was everywhere.

It wasn't always like this; no, I wasn't always like this. No this was hell, hell on earth: the mount burns mental asylum, where apparently they still believed the shock treatment would and could fix cure anyone. But it's hard to cure something you don't have, and have never had.

Two days ago my life was destroyed, taken from me and changed into a night mare that was never mine.

My father, _Charlie_, did the un-thinkable. He took my grand fathers old hunting shot gun from its place above the fire and out of the blue murdered my mother Renee. In the dead of night he took the shot gun up the old creaking stairs, and started walking down the hall way towards his room.

He was approaching my room's door, so I quickly scurried back to bed before he could catch me still awake, and punish me. I had heard him get up earlier, and being a very light sleeper, I couldn't get back to bed. The last week or so there had been something off about him, he always seemed distant and emotionless, even angry.

Once in bed, I shut my eyes and rolled over onto my side trying desperately to relax my muscles, and pass for asleep. I heard the footsteps slow outside my door for a moment, when they didn't immediately continue, I became more and more panicked.

I lay as still as possible and relaxed my muscles further. I still hadn't heard the footsteps start again so I remained still. Eventually I drifted off to a dreamless sleep.

I was still in that dreamless sleep when I was awoken very abruptly but a loud gunshot echoing through the house.

I had jolted upright and out of bed immediately, not thinking of the possibilities of what the shot could have meant. I ran to my bed room door and opened it just a crack so I could see, what I saw scared the living hell out of me. My father was walking down the hall way towards my bed room, shotgun in hand and a twisted sneer on his blood splattered face.

I felt the heart wrenching terror grip my mind and for a moment everything slowed down. My mind quickly snapped out of it and I sprinted back to my bed, diving under the covers, and once again rolling over so he could not see my frightened face.

I squeezed my eyes shut, and took slow, deep breaths to help calm my-self down. I sensed, rather than heard him enter my room. I heard the papers on my desk being moved hastily, and my cloth draws being opened and closed quickly, before I heard the footsteps leave the room. I breathed a slow sigh of relief, and slowly drifted into another dreamless sleep.

I awoke the next morning to loud male voices talking in the room below me. The kitchen I quickly realised.

"It's a total mess up there," one man had said "there is blood everywhere, and the father, Charlie, is a total wreck, and he's shaking and sobbing. Know body has spoken to Isabelle yet. "

That was about the moment my life had come crashing down around me. I started to shake violently, and sob's started heaving through my body, and ripping their way out of my throat in a strangled cry.

"Somebody's got to go talk to the daughter, and see what she knows" the same male voice from before continued. Oblivious to me listening on the floor above.

"Alright Mark, you go see her." Another strong male voice demanded.

From the floor below I heard the scraping of our kitchen chairs on the hard wooden floor, and then loud thudding footsteps all the way up to my room.

The bedroom door opened at the same time my eyes did. The sight before me intimidated me like crazy on the inside, but on the outside I was calm and emotionless.

For the next three hours I was questioned mercilessly about what had happened last night. To scared to tell the hulking man in front of me what I had seen, I answered each question the same; 'I don't know'.

After they had finished questioning me, the police left for an hour, but came back with a paper to search the house properly. The entire house was fine, everything except my room. In it they found bloodied pyjamas, my mother's necklace and the shot gun used to kill her.

I was convicted. I pleaded my case to anyone who would hear me, who could hear me, but the evidence was there. So from then on I was known throughput the town as 'the crazy girl who splattered her mother all over the wall'.

And that's about how I wound up in here I guess. Alone and 'crazy'. The pain I have endured today was beyond cruel. They had held me down, cut me, shocked me, burnt me and above all, they had crushed what little piece of hop I had of getting out of this torture pit alive.

Three days passed. The same mind numbing pain each day, and the same tears shed each hour. This day however was different. My _father_ had come to visit me in the 'crazy house'.

I was taken from my cell and escorted into the visiting room. It was the first time I had ever been in here. Charlie took one look at me, and to say he was discussed would be an understatement. He saw the bruises, the burns and the cuts. He looked at me with grief, sorry and guilt all over his face. I had nothing to say to him, he couldn't even bring him-self to look me in the eye.

We sat in silence for what felt like hours before he finally whispered two words; "I'm sorry". He swiftly stood and left the room, leaving me alone once more. I was collected by the same guard that had taken me from my room, and escorted back again.

That night I was lying in my bed when I smelt it. Smoke. Something close by was burning.

I slowly sat up and got out of bed. I carefully walked over to the large metal door of my cell and pressed my hand to it. I had to withdraw my hand quickly as the door was like molten lava. I knew this was it for me and I didn't even care. Thank you I thought to my-self as I walked back over to my bed and lay down, waiting for the flames to consume me and my sorry excuse for a life.

As I lay there on my bed, the sounds around my finally started to sound in my own ears. I could hear people screaming, and alarms blaring, the cell door slid open. I turned my head to look at it, then lay back down again, smiling to my-self. I wasn't going anywhere. He put me here, and here I would stay.

~The End~

**A/N: I wrote this in my year 10 English class and the teacher basically said it was crap. Let me know what you think in a review.**

**rachael-cullen222**

**-xoxo**


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